Creepy. Maybe someone was watching us right now. I looked around, which was stupid, but hey, I looked anyway.
Bryn was just sitting there, staring out the window. I guess nothing had changed—we already knew what Carl wanted—but it felt like plenty had changed. Like Carl could reach out and grab us whenever he wanted, no matter where we were.
The phone rang in my hand, and we both jumped. I tossed it to Bryn like it might burn my fingers.
She took a deep breath and answered. “Hello?” She listened, and almost at once she relaxed. “Thanks so much for calling me back.” She gave me a thumbs-up, so I’d know it was Dave Bradford at last.
Maybe things were looking up for a change.
She explained about Mom being gone and told him she was helping me look for her. She asked about the dinner they’d had, but then she looked at her watch. “Five o’clock? Yes, I think I can make that. Yes, the one on Compton. I’ll find it. I really appreciate it.” She hung up and turned to face me. “He’s got meetings now at work, and then he’s leaving town tonight, but he said he’d meet me at a sub shop on Compton near his office. Do you know where that is?”
Now we were getting somewhere. I tried to force my worries about Carl into a box. I searched on my map app, pulled up directions, and looked at the travel time. “You can just barely make it from here by five.”
“Not enough time to drop you and Tellico off first?”
“No. It’s the wrong direction.”
I could tell she didn’t like that, and she sat there for a minute instead of pulling out of the parking spot.
Trying to cut me out again. “I don’t want you leaving me at the apartment if Carl is watching us. Plus, this is my mom we’re talking about. I should be there.”
A flicker of pity came and went on her face so fast I almost missed it, but then she shook her head like it had never been there. “You’ve been great, Josh, really. We’d be nowhere without all your information. But it’s because it’s your mom that I’d rather you not hear all this. If the dinner with Dave is connected to the reason she left or the reason Carl’s after her …” Her words drifted to a halt.
Enough. I was sick and tired of her treating me like a little kid. “What do you think I’m going to learn that I don’t already know? That my mom has boyfriends? That she drinks a lot? Takes pills? I live with her. I know all that.”
Bryn put the truck in gear and started toward the exit. “Yeah, okay, I get it. We’ll see. I don’t want to leave Tellico in a hot truck, so you may need to dog-sit while I go in.”
There was no way I was going to be left out of this. No way. But I kept my mouth shut and gave Bryn directions to get there. She kept checking behind us, and so did I. I couldn’t see anyone following, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
We were about five minutes late. The sub shop had its own parking lot, and a man in khakis, a yellow shirt, and a dark blue tie sat waiting at one of the tables on the patio, without any food in front of him. Bryn got out and went to introduce herself, so I hopped out of the truck, grabbed Tellico’s leash, and sat at the table beside her, like I belonged. Tellico stretched out by my feet.
Bryn gave me a dirty look and I gave her one back, but she didn’t make me leave. “Dave, this is Del’s son, Josh.”
“Hi, Josh.”
Mom had a lot of guy friends, but I had never seen this one before. He wore one of those super-fancy wristwatches with all kinds of dials built in. Nice haircut. Nice shoes. On the table beside him was one of those brand-new iPhones I’d seen online. Maybe this was all just for his job, but he sure didn’t look like the sort of guy Mom usually went out with.
“Anything you can tell us would help a lot.” Bryn leaned forward, focused and intent. “Del left town two days after you saw her, and we wondered if she said anything. Or if what you talked about could be connected to where she went.”
“It’s possible.” He thought for a minute, sort of nodding to himself. “To be honest, it was all a little weird. Del and I used to hang out in high school, and then after we graduated, I dated one of her friends. Cindy and I doubled a few times with Del and Sawyer, must have been a year or so after they were married.” He turned to me with a smile. “They brought a baby out to dinner once. That must have been you.”
I nodded like I could remember that far back, but no way.
Dave checked his fancy watch. “Let me start at the beginning. In January, I went with some buddies on a ski trip to Aspen.”
Bryn looked like she knew what he meant. I didn’t know a place called Aspen, but skiing meant not around here.
“So,” Dave went on, “one night we’re out drinking, and I look across the room, and there’s Sawyer, standing there big as life. Well, not Sawyer, obviously …” he glanced my way, and his words stumbled a little. “I knew he … passed in a car crash or something ages ago, so it wasn’t him. But it looked a hell of a lot like him, and he had a tequila shot, salt, and lime lined up in front of him.”
Bryn nodded. “Tequila was always Sawyer’s drink, and he used to treat the whole process like a ritual. Shot in one gulp, glass turned over, salt off a spoon because he didn’t like it on his hand, and just a quick lick of lime.”
I filed the details away. If Dad did it like that, I’d have to try it one day.
“Yeah,” Dave said. “Sawyer was the only person I’d ever seen do it that way, so when I saw this guy out in Aspen doing the exact same thing, it caught my attention, right? So, I go up and talk with the guy, and we laugh about the fact he looks so much like someone who’s dead, like, you know, everyone has a twin somewhere, that sort of thing. And that was it.”
“So, what? You called Del and told her?”
“No, I hadn’t seen Del in years. But a couple of weeks ago, I stopped in at a Kroger to grab some wine on the way to a party—across town, not my usual grocery, right? And Del is working the express lane cash register, and we say ‘Hey’ and ‘How you doing?’ and all that. I mention I’d seen Sawyer’s double, and I take my wine and leave, right?”
“Got it.”
“A few days later, Del calls out of the blue, leaves a message, says she needs to see me. Says if I’ll meet her, she’ll treat for dinner.”
He glanced at me, and I got the idea he was deciding not to say something while I was there, which was a pattern that was really starting to get old. But he went on with his story.
“I met her as we arranged. Del was always a lot of fun in the old days, but the only thing she wanted to talk about this time was this bit about Sawyer’s double. What day was it, what bar was it, what else had I noticed about this guy—everything I could remember. It was weird. I was in Aspen the second week of January, but I couldn’t remember which day it was. And the bar had all this Boston Red Sox stuff on the wall, which was odd enough out West I remembered it, but no way could I remember the name of the bar.”
“Did she say why she wanted to know all those details? Or what else she was going to do?”
“No, she didn’t say a thing.” He gave another glance my way. “But she seemed to believe it was possible maybe this was Sawyer. And that’s crazy, right? I mean, the car crash and all.”
“Plane crash, actually. I don’t know the details.” Bryn stared at the street for a minute, even though there was nothing there but a crumpled beer can. “But it wasn’t Sawyer, right? Even if you didn’t know he was dead, you would have known this guy wasn’t him?”
“Right. His nose was different. His chin wasn’t right either. And, of course, he didn’t recognize me in the least. It was probably just the thing with the tequila shot that made me think about Sawyer. You know how bars are, not much light, everything looks a bit off after a few drinks. But it was eerie, let me tell you. It made me think later about brothers adopted out to different families and never knowing about each other, that sort of thing.”
I’d never thought about something like that. Dad was supposed to be an only child, and both of my grandparents on hi
s side died when I was a baby. But what if he was adopted? What if Mom was out at this Aspen place, searching for my uncle? An aunt I didn’t know about and now maybe an uncle. It was like a movie.
Bryn asked a few more questions, but Dave didn’t know anything else.
His watch chirped like a bird, and he gave it a quick look. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a flight heading out later this evening. But, look, let me know how it turns out, would you? I hope Del’s okay.”
Bryn thanked him. I took Tellico back to the truck, but Bryn didn’t follow. I looked back, and Dave was leaning toward her, talking fast. Then he waved and walked away.
“What did he say to you at the end?” I asked.
Bryn busied herself putting the key in the ignition and opening the windows for fresh air. “Nothing.”
Uh-huh. “And where’s Aspen?”
“Colorado.”
I pulled up a memory snapshot from last year’s geography test. One of those states with square corners. “How far away is it?”
“Far. Like, twelve hundred miles. Maybe more.”
That’s all she said. Bryn stayed really quiet the whole way back to the apartment, and I think she forgot to check behind us. I played a Childish Gambino song extra loud on my phone to bug her, but she didn’t even tell me to turn it down.
Twelve hundred miles. A long, long way. And we only had five days. My worry circled twice around my belly and settled in to stay.
Finding Mom that far away was going to be just about impossible.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bryn
Aspen. The whole drive back to the apartment, I chewed on what Dave had told us, my panic over Carl’s snooping set aside for the moment. If Del had heard the same identical-twin story from him that he’d told us, she would have headed straight out to Aspen. I had no doubt, no doubt at all.
Running off this way was classic Del, and her foolishness pushed all my buttons. When she was thirteen, she and a girlfriend had hopped a bus to Nashville to go to a Backstreet Boys concert, wandering home three days later like it was no big deal. When I was in college and Del was in high school, I got so many phone calls from Mom about Del’s disappearances, I didn’t even try to keep the stories straight—beach weekends, a multiday barhop, a girls’ night out that somehow lasted four days. Now she’d graduated from days missing to more than a week missing, and I was convinced she’d expanded her range from cross-state to cross-country.
It would be just like Del to dream up a movie-of-the-week plot and convince herself Sawyer was still alive, and just like her to decide she needed to track him down and give him what for. Ridiculous. The drugs must have addled her brain. Sawyer wouldn’t have been declared officially dead unless he was … dead. Dead, as in now he was a corpse. Dead, as in not breathing, not alive, not drinking tequila shots in a bar in Aspen.
I’d had plenty of proof Sawyer couldn’t keep his pants zipped, but fake his own death and abandon his son? No way. No matter how fed up he might have been with Del, I couldn’t make myself believe it. Del was just indulging in fairy tales.
So, there it was. My wayward sister was most likely in Aspen, and once again, the obvious choice was to call the police and let them start a search there. They could do their job, and I could get back home where I belonged. To hell with Carl—when the cops found Del, I’d simply let him know where she was and let the two of them settle things.
But I didn’t reach for my phone.
Dave had pulled me back after Josh headed for the truck. “Listen, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the boy, but you should know Del was in bad shape the night I saw her.”
“Bad shape how?”
“High. Narcotic high—my sister went down that path; I know the signs. Serious signs, not a friendly fun-time buzz. She was tense, jittery, short of breath. She ordered a big meal and ate two bites. She’s no first timer. She’s well into it.”
I added it to the list of things to toss in her face when I found her.
When I found her. Not the police. I hadn’t realized I’d made my decision until those words hit home.
It wasn’t just about Carl, although, yeah, okay, fear was a great motivator. It was the recognition that Del needed help. She needed treatment, not an arrest. And it was also because of Josh, the son I might once have had, a boy who deserved better than he’d gotten so far. The last thing he needed was a mother in jail. I couldn’t set the Aspen police on Del’s drug-littered trail until I’d given it a shot myself.
I could delay my next coding job. Ask Landon to hang in there a little longer, keeping an eye on things at home. It wasn’t ideal, but I could make it work—I just needed to hustle. If I was going to keep looking, I needed to find Del before Carl lost patience, no question about that.
By the time we got back to the apartment, I was thinking about filling the gas tank and checking a map, wondering how long it would take to reach Colorado.
I circled the block as usual and once again saw nothing that looked worrisome. Checked behind me and didn’t see anyone turning into the street.
Josh was acting just as paranoid as I was, turning around in his seat to look in all directions. “All the cars I see on the street belong here.” It was the first thing he had said since leaving Dave.
“Good. Best to make sure.” I parked the truck and we got out.
The front porch of the big fourplex ran the full width of the house, deep enough for tables and chairs if anyone had cared to furnish it. Since decorate appeared to be an alien word in this neighborhood, the porch was instead stacked at both ends with assorted junk—a dead refrigerator, a stack of tattered cardboard boxes, a child’s crib with one side caved in.
All this clutter blocked the view from the street, and it wasn’t until we were all the way up the front walk that I saw someone waiting. He had pulled an old wooden crate out of the junkpile, and he was sitting on it by the front door. He held a cigarette, and Patsy was curled in his lap, looking even tinier than usual compared to the manicured hand that petted her. I froze, one foot on the bottom step, cigarette smoke creeping down my throat in a choking swirl.
Carl. Shit. No need to follow us, he could have just headed straight here. I broke out in an adrenaline-charged sweat.
Tellico growled on cue beside me, and Josh gasped, his body tense and his eyes fixed on the cat.
Carl wore the same slacks-and-jacket style he’d had on at the homestead, still looking more like an executive than a drug dealer. “About time you got back. I’ve been waiting.” He acted like we were late for a scheduled appointment. “I have employees and customers who depend on me. I need to get this mess settled.”
He sounded so smooth—like some sort of Better Business Bureau member following up on a distribution issue. But the next minute, his attitude shifted. He glared at me, and his voice got nasty. “You’re supposed to be the smart sister, so get with it. The clock’s ticking, I haven’t heard from Del yet, and now I get a photo of you screwing around in a park somewhere.”
That answered the question of whether Carl himself had taken the picture, but it didn’t make me feel any better to confirm there were other people out there reporting in to him. My thoughts were swirling, and I was still so dismayed by his presence, I couldn’t think how to respond.
Maybe I was taking too long to answer, or maybe he’d planned it from the start, but he moved fast, pinning Patsy tight against his chest. She gave a startled meow, but Carl had her in a tight grip. He moved his cigarette, holding the lit end only an inch away from her face.
Whatever threat he planned to speak died in his throat because as soon as he seized the cat, Josh exploded.
“No!” Josh knocked me to one side and lunged up the stairs, grabbing for the hand that threatened the cat.
Carl dropped the cigarette and in one seamless move, he backhanded Josh, moving fast and hitting hard. Josh fell against the porch railing, one hand pressed to his cheek. Tellico barked in a frenzy and started to leap forward, b
ut I grabbed his collar and dragged him back. I had no doubt his teeth could do some major damage, but that wouldn’t solve anything. Patsy took full advantage of the chaos, wiggled out of Carl’s grasp, and streaked away.
My heart pounded in my ears, and my face throbbed as if I were the one who’d been hit. My legs were shaking so hard I didn’t trust them to move. The casualness with which Carl had struck was as distressing as the blow itself. “Josh, are you okay?”
“Guess so.” He didn’t sound very convincing, but I was going to have to wait to check for myself.
Carl was on his feet, and he came to the top of the stairs, his face an angry red. I backed up a few steps, but I still had to crane my neck to meet his glare.
“You said we had a week.” I sounded more pitiful than I wanted to, but maybe that was okay. There was little chance we’d find Del that soon if we had to drive to Colorado, and I didn’t want to tell him we were going. I glanced at Josh, who was standing now, looking angry but holding still. “It’s only been two days. We’re looking, but it’s going to take more time.”
“I don’t have time.” Carl glanced at Tellico, still tense and ready, and he made no attempt to come closer. “I don’t think you’re taking me seriously enough.”
He pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it, the flame shooting higher than normal. He held it in front of him, staring at it, and for a moment he seemed to forget we were there. He was utterly mesmerized by that flame. Fascinated. Almost affectionate.
I’d never seen anything so profoundly disturbing.
He finally gave himself a little shake, clicked the lighter closed and looked back at Josh. “No chickens here, but this old house is all wood.”
His words tossed me back to the moment I’d placed Annabelle into the ground, the rich black dirt cascading down on top of her, covering her beautiful red feathers. The fear that had kept me in check so far converted into hundred-proof fury.
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